tawnks:

the one thing that has stuck with me every day since my English teacher told me it in middle school is:

"When referring to someone, always say who they are before anything else about them, because being a person always comes first"

Instead of saying “the mentally ill man,” say “the man with a mental illness”

Putting someone’s characteristics (especially negative ones) before them is dehumanizing and rude. Don’t do it.

194,201 notes

deansass:

Gender stereotyping in the English language
I was doing my reading for class and I came across this and was shocked at how accurate it was.

deansass:

Gender stereotyping in the English language

I was doing my reading for class and I came across this and was shocked at how accurate it was.

7,524 notes

  • me: Oh what the fuck
  • friend: what happened?
  • me: this scenario I created in my head got intense

309,116 notes

When I first felt hatred
for myself, I was 11 years old.
It was two weeks before
starting middle school
and I would enter adolescence
with self-doubt and fresh
wounds on the surface
of my premature skin.
As it goes with every new
sudden feeling, I felt alone
in the journey that was
set before me. I’m 21 years
old now and all of those
open wounds have healed
and have become small stories
on my body. Tales that I would
go on to repeat to any newcomer
that recognized scar tissue
in places that could only be
self-inflected. Since then,
looking back on those 10 years
of searching for myself
with the help of sharp objects
that had no say in what might
be best, I have taken those
throbbing experiences
and have turned them into
hope for new wanderers
who may have crossed
the path of darkness before
reaching the field of light.
Still, I look down at my limbs
and see the weakness hiding
beneath new tissue. I can
still hear it calling to me
to open them up one more time.
I cover up my wrists
with my armor and look ahead
to my path, to my not yet
completed journey.
The first time I felt the richness
of self-doubt was when I was
11 years old. Barley old enough
to see the outcome of what
my hands were truly capable of.
10 years of solitude
masked with bandaids
and bracelets and now my skin
is finally able to breathe.
Now I can see that what I was
trying to destroy all along
would be the only thing
that served as my protective
shield. Now I can stretch
my arms outward and show
my once so powerful
self-doubt that it no longer
will be able to reach me.
"My victory lives beneath my skin," - Colleen Brown (via mostlyfiction)

259 notes

acidic-child:

itscooliosbuturblind:

beammeupsc0ttie:

Green Day lead singer Billie Joe Armstrong wrote this about his father, who died of cancer on September 1st, 1982. At his father’s funeral, Billie cried, ran home and locked himself in his room. When his mother got home and knocked on the door to Billie’s room, Billie simply said, “Wake me up when September ends.”

Fuck.

Oh god

acidic-child:

itscooliosbuturblind:

beammeupsc0ttie:

Green Day lead singer Billie Joe Armstrong wrote this about his father, who died of cancer on September 1st, 1982. At his father’s funeral, Billie cried, ran home and locked himself in his room. When his mother got home and knocked on the door to Billie’s room, Billie simply said, “Wake me up when September ends.”

Fuck.

Oh god

151,707 notes

minoverboard:

Growing Pains • Neck Deep | for zoe by me x
first try at colour like ever, I need to work on blending and staying in the lines and my whole technique really and I need to get some browns and stuff but ok I think it’s alright I hope I just get better and better ye

minoverboard:

Growing Pains • Neck Deep | for zoe by me x

first try at colour like ever, I need to work on blending and staying in the lines and my whole technique really and I need to get some browns and stuff but ok I think it’s alright I hope I just get better and better ye

40 notes